On
Sunday, my last day in Arizona, I took a Vortex Tour around Sedona.
It is not the Pink Jeep tour (supposedly THE tour.) It might seem a
tad disheveled at times, and like the tour guide is taking the pulse
of the planet to determine where to go next. I was the only person to
show up for the 7:30 a.m. tour, and we visited: Airport Vortex, Cathedral
Rock Vortex and the vortex at the running stream, whose name escapes
me right now. I am pretty sure this is one view from up by the airport. The two of us did a little ceremony there, embarassing me a bit in front of the early morning tourists. She shook a leather rattle, and chanted and sang, and then we held hands and exchanged prayers.
Sweeping around to
get the magnificent view from the airport (the Airport Vortex is a strong
masculine vortex; inclined towards movement and change and turmoil.)
Wow.
Great picture, mrm! Still somewhat washed out, but I realized later I
still had the camera set to "long exposure" from my Christmas tree
light experiments of the night before.
My
earnest and somewhat driven tour guide. She's from England, but seems
to have been irrevocably drawn to Sedona.
Me, at
almost my all-time heaviest. Very wearying. Back on the diet
treadmill. I managed to gain back all the weight I lost in 2002.
You can
see how the rocks dwarf the town.
I am sure
each and every protuberance is named, and, its energy mapped and
tapped.
Cathedral
Rock, from its base. We walked part way up. You can follow a trail
all the way up, or so I was led to believe. The Cathedral Rock vortex
is a feminine, nurturing, still and calm energy center.
Almost
the same shot of Cathedral Rock (my particular vortex, according to
the guide), but this time, without the camera set to "long exposure."
A broader
view of Cathedral Rock.
The
watery energy. Ask for what you want to come towards you, what you
want to come into your life.
Ask for what you want
to go away from you, what you want to wash away downstream. This water
vortex is also a feminine vortex. (You know, now that I think of it, I
wonder why they are engendered. Seems like a clear case of projection.)
I believe
I am now back in ignorant tourist mode, snapping pictures of rocks and
vortexes and energies without knowing what I'm doing. I think this
one is called Snoopy. (Honestly.)
Outside a
studio, some whimsical cacti. Note that Sedona has more art galleries
than residents. I labored hard that Sunday, spending, oh, something
like 11 a.m. - 5 p.m. or more, going gallery to gallery. I was sturdy.
I did not buy any piece of art that happened to be priced at a few
thousand dollars. I did fall in love with and buy a little turquoise
suede pillow, on which is a curvy black bear who is decorated with
strident sharp arrows of rust. Only $75.
A moose waits for us to enter.
My
beautiful blue pillow. I read (for the first time) "Great Gatsby" in
Sedona.
After
this day of hurtling from gallery to gallery, and not to mention getting
up at the crack of dawn to be with some vortexes, I retreated at
sunset to the Red Rock State Park. An actual real live blooming
cactus was at the entrance.
The park
has a graceful rock border, up at the viewing platform. I thought it
a lovely and very Sedona touch.
The view
of the red rocks at the park.
Prickly-pear cactus are strewn about the hillside. The dirt is all
red dirt (although they don't promote that quite as heavily as they do
on Kauai.)
Suddenly,
in the middle of the park, or seemingly, is a red dirt palatial house.
Looks kinda cool and like they must have killer views. Must be
private land near the park.
The point
of this photo: to show to Dad the coral and silver bracelet that "he
bought" for me! He has me for Christmas, so we agreed this could be
his present to me. The coffee cup is an old design by Mary Coulter
(1930s) for the La Posada Inn. It is now the only cup I use for
coffee or tea.
Yow.
Maybe my camera isn't broken after all.
The
Church of the Rock. It is Roman Catholic but I think it is also
pretty open and not that denominational.
It is
sort of odd - you can't imagine a church design that would be more at
odds with the local scenery - but maybe that was the appeal.
This must
be the view from the church.
The
eerie, Martian, yet oddly familar red fingers reach up to the sky.
Cactus
and red rock. This is Arizona to me, sorry to be cliched.
Twilight draws near.
The
inside of the Church of the Rock.
A pilgrim to the church takes a break to watch the sun go down over the rocks. Or maybe she's just tired.